Fame and Fortune and Many Casualties
by Supper Hot Turk
Summary: Damon Salvatore is living in the glorious Capitol and wants a change in his slow-paced life. He propels himself to fame with his looks, but in the Capitol, fans can be manic and being a celebrity is not what he expected.
1. Chapter 1

Fame and Fortune and Many Casualties

Damon Salvatore was very, very bored with his life. It was the year 3067, and he'd already witnessed the huge natural disaster that destroyed much of North America, the many wars that ensued, the creation of the shining, modern Capitol which was where he lived now, and then even more wars, resulting in The Hunger Games (which happened to be one of his favorite shows– humans killing each other ranked pretty high up there on his favorite kinds of entertainment).

Resting upon the super huge, soft bed that he shared with his brother Stefan and their vampire girlfriend Elena (who never had made a decision about which one she liked more), Damon decided that it would be really cool to be famous.

After all, he was going to lose his chance pretty soon; he wasn't stupid, he'd heard all the rumors about the Districts beginning to rebel against the Capitol. He wouldn't be surprised if in a year or two he'd have to take his friends and move to Europe (not Italy, unfortunately– it was gone).

He walked over to the wall, pressed a button, and instantly a mirror appeared. Damon surveyed his appearance. Unlike Stefan and Elena, he hadn't been gripped by the crazy Capitol fashion and continued to dress in his trademark outfit of black jeans, black boots, black leather jacket and Ray Bans that were now thousands of years old. They'd held up pretty good considering everything he'd been through. He took them off for a moment to look at his face. It was perfect. Yes, he thought. This face was his key to fame.

Now, to find the right people. Did he need an agent? He wasn't exactly sure how to go about becoming famous right now– he hadn't propelled himself like this into the public eye since the early 1900s, where he'd gone under the name Count Damon de Sangue and been loved by all. It was probably easier to become famous now, actually, what with the Super Internet and cell phones and reporters roaming the streets like insects, just waiting to see a celebrity so they could add stuff to the many online tabloids.

Damon decided that he'd make a quick stop at the Talent House, which was supposedly all people with a special talent went to become super-awesomely famous. They'd be instantly charmed by his looks and if he needed to, he could wing it from there– or should he say _compel_ it. No, he thought, I shouldn't say that, because it just sounds stupid, and sounding stupid is certainly not the way to become a celebrity.

He left his house and took a hovercraft taxi over to the Talent House. There was a line there, going out the door, but it was getting cycled through quickly as freak after Capitol freak got rejected. Damon waited patiently until it was his turn, and he walked into the room the Peacekeepers directed him into with confidence.

"Welcome," said the weird Capitol Man that was sitting on (not at) the desk when he entered, "please fill out this form quickly and then we can talk."

Damon accepted the piece of paper and pen and looked at the questions.

NAME _

DATE OF BIRTH_

ADDRESS (if more than one, please write the one where you spend most of your time) _ _ _

TALENT_

POLITICAL AFFILIATION _

MEDICAL CONDITIONS (if any)_

Smirking, Damon answered the questions _Count Damon de Sangue_; _10/31/3048_; _456 Mulbrery Lane, Sector 5, the Capitol_; _my looks and entertainment abilities_; _U/A_; and _none_, respectively. He handed it back to the man who then glanced at Damon.

"Please, sir, take of your glasses, will you?" he said to him. Damon whipped off the sunglasses, and the Capitol man gasped. "OH! Datura, come here, quick!"

A thin woman who was dressed in a mermaid costume (or at least that's what it looked like to Damon) ran into the room and when she saw Damon, she froze in her tracks, placing one long-nailed hand over her chest.

"This is just the look we've wanted," the man said quickly. "Look at him– can't you imagine him, that face, on the cover of every self-respecting Capitol tabloid?"

"Yes, oh yes, Metel, I can," Datura said breathily. "What is his name?"

Damon crossed his arms as they poured over his information sheet then turned back to him. "Count," Metel said in a stunned voice, "will you honor us so much as to allow us to make you into the Capitol's newest It-Man?"

It-Man? Damon thought to himself. That sounded odd. But if it meant that he would be famous, sure, he had no problem with that. "Uh– yes, you may," he said. "Tell me, though, what does being the It-Man entail?"

Datura and Metel stared at him like he'd been living under a rock his whole life, but explained anyway. "Every year we here at Talent House elect a new It-Man to represent the Capitol for everyone that lives here and in the Districts. Not only will you be incredibly famous, but…."

This is where Damon stopped listening. Looked like he'd gotten what he'd wanted.

"That was easy," he muttered to himself.

"Is your house very magnificent?" Datura was asking him now. "Everyone will see it when you're the It-Man. We're putting the news of your new title up in an hour, so you have enough time to prepare your stuff, you know, ensure that it's all clean and well-groomed."

Damon thought broodingly of the dusty, unused kitchen in his house and the ugly poetry that Stefan had insisted painting on all their walls in red paint. No way could he fix all that in an hour. "You know what," he said. "'I'll go buy another house. I'll get back to you with my new address within the hour."

"Thank you," Metel said, shaking his hand. "We've been struggling all year to find someone good enough. We've had to delay the decision twice already."

"We're truly excited to have you onboard here in the Capitol celebrity business," Datura told him, giving him a kiss on the cheek that was unwanted and left a smear of green lipstick on his pale skin.

As he left the Talent House, people stared at him not so discreetly, and Damon could hear them whispering the rumors to each other: That's the new It-Man! They chose him! He smirked. He had no doubt in the world that he was in for a good time.

But first he needed a house. In an hour media people would be swarming him, and he needed somewhere to stay that was at least half-decent.

As he was walking down the street an amazing place caught his eye. It was actually a hotel for people to stay during the season of the Hunger Games– Damon lived in a place that was conveniently close to the center of the action, but some people had to stay in a hotel so they could make it to over to watch the Tribute Parade. Damon wanted this hotel very much: the architecture was reminiscent of the buildings he'd lived in during his youth.

He walked into the hotel and approached the lady behind the desk. Time to use some Influence.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" he said. She looked up at smiled with garish yellow lips. "May I please speak to the owner of this hotel?"

"This is she," the lady said.

Damon smiled back at her and made direct eye contact. "_You will give me this hotel. You will hire people to come in here and replace everything like this_–" he waved over at the frilly pink chairs and sofa that they had in the lobby and no doubt in all the rooms as well– "_with things that are much more masculine, and preferably black. This lobby will be made into a dining hall that is fit for a king. You will do all this within the hour. Do you understand me_?"

The woman nodded, her purple eyes glazed over like all influenced eyes were, and set to work calling her together all her workers so they could begin.

Damon grinned and ran out, dropping into the Talent House to tell them his new address (they were impressed and seemed to worship him even more than before now) and then he rushed over to where he, Stefan, and Elena lived to tell them what had happened.

Stefan was in the huge round living room, which was always kind of dark because their twenty-foot tall lamps weren't lighting it properly, and found Stefan and Elena making out on the couch over a dead groosling.

He walked over to them quietly and tapped their heads with his fingers. They broke apart quickly and smiled at him.

"What's up?" Stefan asked.

"I'm gonna be famous," Damon said, "in about… let's see… half an hour. I'm the new It-Man for the Capitol."

Stefan, who actually followed this kind of celebrity stuff, leapt to his feet in excitement. "Are you SERIOUS, Damon? This is HUGE."

"I know," Damon smirked, and then he turned to Elena, who was watching her lovers with a look of pleasure on her pale face. Her appearance and mostly kept the same look over the years– she refused to take part in the crazy make-up and hair styles the Capitol insisted on– but she still dressed like the other citizens in wildly luxurious clothes, today decked out in a magnificent golden dress. "Elena? Are you excited?"

"Yes, I am," Elena said. "I'm so proud of you. How'd you get the title?"

"I just smiled," Damon said. "They were completely charmed."

Elena leaned in and kissed him softly on the lips. "I'd believe that."

Stefan clapped Damon on the back and gave him a large, encouraging grin. "You go be famous, brother. We'll stay updated on the news. Have fun."

"Oh, you just want me to go so you can have Elena all to yourself again," Damon teased. Stefan chortled and shook his head. The bickering between the brothers and long since dissolved as they came to terms with their relationship with Elena.

When Damon arrived at his new house, having collected some of his most treasured belongings, it was completely transformed into his favorite kind of place. All the furniture was now black and manly, and even the Avoxes were uniformly dark-skinned and macho. Damon hadn't expected them to take it that far, so he told the Influenced woman that it was okay to just dress people in black, so long as they were masculine.

He heard the first hints of the paparazzi as he lounged casually against the side of his house– little camera clicks as they approached him. He tried to look his best (that was easy– he always looked great) and forced himself to be relaxed. He started to smile just as he heard the first scream.

"OH MY GOD, THERE'S DAMON SANGUINE!"

_Damon Sanguine_? Hadn't he said Count Damon de Sangue? What, had Metel fed the press the wrong information or something? That was just annoying. But now everyone was around him, screaming "DAMON SANGUINE!" and he had no choice but to play along… it might give a bad impression if he seemed irritated this early on.

Crowds were starting to swarm around his hotel, and men in bright blue uniforms were putting up official looking ropes around the perimeter of Damon's house, keeping the crowd back. Even more uniformed men were laying down red carpets and huge standup posters that had advertisements on them. Damon watched in interest. Soon enough cameras of every shape and size were being pulled out, zooming in on Damon's face, the huge crowds, Damon's face, the hotel, and Damon's face. Especially his face.

Now reporters were starting to come out. A woman with triangle-shaped blond hair approached him, holding a microphone and wearing an exhilarated smile.

"I am so honored to be here, talking to _you_, Damon Sanguine," she said. "How does it feel to be the Capitol's newest and hottest It-Man?"

"Oh, it's just great," Damon told her with a smile. "I've wanted this role for my entire life. How fortunate I feel to have it now."

The woman was clearly trying to contain her excitement, but the fans didn't care, and they let out screams of happiness.

"That's just amazing. I mean, obviously, you've been working on your appearance for years, if you've been hoping for the role, the main part being your looks–"

"Oh, this is natural," Damon said. "I've always looked like this."

The woman with triangle hair laughed like that was a joke and Damon wanted to kill her, but he contained the urge and just moved on to talk to other reporters and look at the ever-growing crowd. There were people that had signs reading "MARRY ME, DAMON", "LET'S PLAY TAG, YOU'RE IT (_CHASE ME_)", and "SANGUINE FOR ME". Huge balloons had pictures of his face on them. People had whistles that, when blow on, said his name. It was all thoroughly amazing.

But what was fame without other celebrities to mingle with?

"Hey," Damon said, grabbing the arm of one of the uniformed men and causing screams in the crowd, "do you think you could arrange a dinner for me? With lots of other famous people?"

"Like who?" the man asked. Reporters were starting to crowd in so Damon had to lean in to him to be heard.

"You know, Dumbledore, the president, Katniss Everdeen… maybe Elvis."

Sadly, these were the only celebrities he knew about at the moment. Dumbledore was a famous wizard (Wizards had been proven to exist several hundred years ago, and Dumbledore had been alive for three hundred since they cloned him). President Snow was a man Damon greatly admired, a man of evil who had worked his way up to his prominent position through poison. Katniss Everdeen, and her fiancé Peeta MellSomething were all Stefan had ever been talking about lately, the Star-Crossed Lovers from District Whatever who had BOTH one the Hunger Games last season. Elvis Presley was a vampire and had never actually died ("I knew it all along! The King lives on!" Stefan had said when he found out"). Damon wouldn't mind meeting any of them. Might be cool.

"How soon do you need them?" the man said, pulling out a phone.

"Oh, half an hour or so. If they can make it," Damon said, surprised at the willingness to obey him. He hadn't even used his Influence!

"You say it, it shall be so," the man said, and he started calling celebrities.

Damon turned back to the crowd of reporters. All the women had hideous triangle shaped hair. All the men were either fat and balding or young and dressed up in the Capitol's stupid fashions. Damon saw himself projected in the sky, standing amidst the crowd, looking calm and cool and collected. He was easily the best-looking one there.

And they knew it. They were screaming it at him, reminding him of just how brilliant and attractive and cool he was.

He liked it.


	2. Chapter 2

"Elena, this is amazing," Stefan said, staring at his smart phone. He had it open to the Capitol News Site, which updated things about celebrities at rapid fire. It was where every media-freak like Stefan went for their entertainment news.

"What is it?" Elena said, idly flipping through the channels on their TV. It took up an entire wall of their living room.

Stefan put his arm around her shoulders and told her softly, "Damon Sanguine is the Capitol's number one celebrity right now. At the top of all the polls."

A cheer erupted from Elena's sweet mouth and she leaned her head back against Stefan's arm. "Fantastic," she said, changing channels again and landing right on live coverage of Damon's house.

"OH! Stefan! Look, here he is!"

Stefan looked up and grinned just as Damon started talking to a reporter about his love life.

"How does it feel to be the Capitol's hottest single man?" the reporter was asking him. Stefan watched proudly as Damon smirked.

"Oh, it's just fantastic," Damon said.

"Any love interests we should know about?"

Damon had long perfected the look of pretend-embarrassment, and he used this now as he said, "Well, there is this one girl…."

Elena beamed, expecting him to say her, but instead he said, "That girl over there is just… the absolutely most tempting physical specimen I've ever laid my eyes on, I must admit. _So_ tempting."

The camera zoomed in on a purple-haired girl with a long, pale neck that made Stefan's fangs elongate with bloodlust. He checked the new website and informed Elena, "That girl is Ash Macorange and she was born December 3rd, 3050. She is "thrilled" to find out that Damon Sanguine is in love with her– er, never mind, Damon likes another girl now, a model named Yush Lovo, they've been spotted kissing and– oh, they're engaged."

"What?" Elena exclaimed, pulling away to stare at Stefan.

"Stuff happens this fast in the Capitol," Stefan told her. "Weird, right? They're getting married in ten minutes."

"_TEN MINUTES_!"

On the TV, another reporter had approached Damon, looking horrible in a leopard print jumpsuit and cat ears. "How do you feel about you recent engagement?" he asked Damon.

"Oh, it's just fantastic," Damon said, "Yosh is fantastic." He hooked arms with the model– who had a neck so long as to challenge a swan and so pale you could clearly see her many blue veins– and they giggled with each other.

"My name's Yush," the model corrected him when they were finished. "With a U, not an O."

Damon's smile flickered for a second and he looked extremely irritated.

Stefan checked his phone. "Yush and Damon are the Capitol's second most adored couple, just after Katniss and Peeta, and everyone is excited to see them get marri– uh oh, they had a fight."

"I know," Elena said sounding relieved, "I'm watching it now."

Stefan looked up from his phone just as a reporter shoved a microphone in Damon's face and asked, "So, how do you feel about your new status as single?"

"I like it," Damon said, smiling charmingly (Damon Sanguine was voted as having the sexiest smile in the Capitol three seconds later).

"Why did you break up with Yush?" the reporter asked.

"Personal reasons," Damon said. "We just… weren't right for each other."

Close up on Yush Lovo's tearstained face as she waved away reporters, then on Damon's eyes, which were squinting, Stefan knew, from the sunlight, not from any sort of personal distress over breaking up with a woman he'd known for a minute. He put sunglasses on to shield them from the sun.

Signs in the crowd now proudly proclaimed "DOWN WITH YUSH", "YOU BREAK HIS HEART YOU BREAK OURS" and "KILL THE MODEL BEFORE SHE KILLS DAMON".

Stefan sucked in his breath, thinking, _that's extreme_. But all of this was extreme. Damon Sanguine was being nominated for thousands of awards online currently, for things such as the cutest hair, or the best jacket, or the best canine teeth. He was the Sexiest Man in the World. The Most Eligible Single Male. The Youngest and Hippest It-Man Ever. Stefan snorted in laughter. Sure, he was the youngest. If the others were cave men.

"Oh my God, Stefan," Elena said sounding horribly upset, "Damon's engaged again."

"That's how it works in this business," Stefan said bracingly, though he couldn't help but wonder if Damon might just meet a permanent lover here, and if he did… if Elena might just be all Stefan's.

The newest engagement blew over very quickly, leaving Damon single again just as other celebrities began arriving at the event (which was officially called "The Crowning of Damon Sanguine, the Newest It-Man"). Dumbledore was the first to get there, Apparating into the scene wearing his signature robes and long white beard. The crowd went wild, and Stefan could see Damon beaming, perhaps the first genuine smile he'd shone all night. His smile only grew when Dumbledore approached Damon and told him, completely seriously, "I am so honored to be here, to meet you, Mr. Sanguine."

Elena frowned at the TV, and asked Stefan quietly, "Is this normal, Stefan? Or do you think… Damon might be Influencing people to act this way around him? I mean, Dumbledore being honored to meet him is a bit… much."

"It's normal," Stefan told her, "I know, it's weird to us, but it's really normal by Capitol standards. Why are you asking? Whether or not he's Influencing people, he's still famous."

"I know," Elena said, "it's just… all these people like him. And they don't even know him very well…."

Stefan smiled. "Are you jealous?" he asked her. Elena flushed, but didn't say anything. "Would you like me to take you down there so we can join the event? You're so beautiful they might let you in the roped area. Or I can pretend to be a reporter."

On screen the camera caught Damon making out madly with a voluptuous woman with olive skin, and Elena narrowed her eyes in disgust. "It's okay, Stefan. We can stay here. Obviously he has no need for us at the moment."

Stefan wasn't happy that Elena was upset with Damon, but he had to admit that if Damon broke her heart this way it might be the luckiest possible scenario for Stefan. He hadn't had Elena all to himself for thousands of years… just the thought of kissing her, caressing her, exchanging blood with her, without having to think about Damon doing the same things later on, filled Stefan with bliss.

….

The fame was getting to his head, and he knew it. But somehow, he didn't care.

Damon broke away from the woman he was kissing and basked in the attention from everyone, in the cameras and cheers. It was marvelous. MARVELOUS. Even _Albus Dumbledore_ was honored to be here with him!

_If only I had someone to share it with, _he thought, his mind on Elena. She would like this. She'd always enjoyed being popular.

Watching the portrait of himself that was being painted on the side of his house, he thought of how improved it would be if his Princess of Darkness could be standing by him.

His daydreams were interrupted by an increase in the volume of the cheering (if that was even possible– maybe Damon only noticed it because of his special vampire hearing) and the arrival of Katniss Everdeen. Damon watched her dismount from the hovercraft with Peeta and the lady with pink hair who was always following her around. He had never seen Katniss in the flesh before. She was on her victory tour now, and appeared to Damon to be more attractive live than onscreen. In the Games she'd been too dirty and starving to fully appreciate.

He made his way over to her to say hello, shaking off reporters who tried to get in his way. She gave him a tight smile.

"Hello," she said, obviously not wishing to be there. Her fiancé was more polite.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Sanguine," he said, offering Damon a large, warm hand to shake. Damon took it, still looking at Katniss. She was glaring at him, and he didn't know why that could be.

"You can call me Damon," he told Peeta smoothly, letting go of his hand. He turned his back to the boy and faced Katniss. He leaned in close so that no reporters could hear what he was saying.

"I'm sorry, did I do something to offend you?" he whispered.

"No, _you_ didn't," she said with a scowl.

"Then why are you so angry?"

"You know that model you were engaged to for a couple minutes?" she asked. Damon nodded, remembering how disgusting and unlike Elena Yush's blood had tasted. "Well, they killed her."

Damon's jaw dropped and cameras zoomed in to look at his "SPECTACULAR TONGUE". "What? Who killed her? Who's _they_?"

"The idiot masses," Katniss said. "The Capitol. _Your_ people."

"But why?"

"Because you didn't like her," Katniss said, "which, in my opinion, is just ridiculous. I hope you're proud of yourself."

This was unreasonable, Damon thought, seeing as he had by no means encouraged the murder of Yush Lovo. He hadn't said he wanted her dead, and was in fact quite repulsed by the idea of her death.

"Katniss, let's go," Peeta muttered to her, pulling her away. "Remember, Cinna told us to look happy."

Her face broke into a false smile and they walked away, leaving Damon rather distressed. He stared out at the huge crowd, wondering which of his fans had killed Yush. He pictured it happening, just a couple minutes ago, crowds of people surrounding her on her way out and moving in, not letting her escape, before they went on to the kill….

He shivered.

"Damon Sanguine, are you okay?" a reporter asked him shrilly, thrusting a microphone into his face.

"I'm fine," he said shortly, trying to get away. But the reporter was persistent and grabbed his wrist with her small pink hand.

"No, something's bothering you, Mr. Sanguine. Is it because… you're lonely?"

Damon wasn't lonely. Quite the opposite. But looking at the reporter now, at the turquoise vein protruding from her wrist, he _was_ rather thirsty.

"We killed Yush for you because we knew she broke your heart," the reporter said, like that was a good thing, and suddenly Damon was _very_ thirsty, and he broke the nearby cameras and latched his fangs into her neck, at an angle so it would look as if he were kissing her rather than sucking her blood. Though vampires were acknowledged to exist, he wasn't sure if that would somehow disqualify him from being an It-_Man_, or if he wanted fans to scream at him to drink their blood.

Damon didn't kill the reporter, but he took enough to leave her unconscious on the ground. Maybe she had been the one to bring about Yush's death. She seemed awful proud of it.

Just to be clear, Damon wasn't really disturbed by the fact that someone had been killed. That would be ridiculous: he was a murderer himself, many times over. He was more upset by the fact that other people had killed her for him, without even bothering to see that that was what he wanted. He had not, in fact, wanted her dead because of him. The very idea was ridiculous.

But looking into the crowd right now, his fans did not seem to know that. The wild looks on their faces told him that they were crazy about him. And looking closer, he saw the message on one of the signs that was being held up in the air. What it said was chilling: "I WILL DO UNSPEAKABLE THINGS". Damon finished the sentence in his head: _for you_.

A gunshot rang out suddenly, and Damon turned around in time to see that a Peacekeeper had shot the unconscious reporter. A pool of blood welled up on her back as Damon stared. He ran over to the Peacekeeper.

"What the hell was that for?" he snarled.

"She upset you," the Peacekeeper said, sounding proud.

Damon punched him in the stomach, troubled by the fact that his fans would, indeed, do unspeakable things.


End file.
